Golden Boy
by esompthin
Summary: Alfred thinks he's slowly going insane. How else can he explain the boy with perfect golden hair that always comes to his rescue? WIP. AU. USUK. Eventual PruCan.
1. Chapter 1

Kind of testing out this idea before I take it to my own story. Sorry for the short intro. Tell me what you think!

* * *

The wind blew harshly, causing the branches to sway and the dry leaves to rattle. It was cold, despite the sun being out. I reached up and pulled myself up higher, my shoes scraping against the trunk for leverage.

"Be careful!" My brother yells from below.

"I am." I call back, not bothering to glance at him as I lean against the trunk and plan my next move upward. Another blast of wind rattles through the forest. I pause, holding the trunk tightly, and wait for the wind to pass.

"Come back down!" Matt sits on the first branch, not even four feet off the ground. He refused to go any higher on a windy day.

"In a sec!" I shout over my shoulder as I step to a hefty branch to the left of me. Around the tree, there's the next branch I can reach. It's bare of leaves and a little shaky looking, but it'll hold me.

Holding onto the trunk with one arm, I shift my weight to my left foot as I reach forward to try and grab the branch. Just as my fingers, pink and going numb from the cold, brush against the bark, a large gust of wind hits.

I can only suck in breath in shock as I lose my balance and slip off my safe branch. My arms flailed helplessly as I tried to hold onto a branch or leaf or twig or _something_ that could help me. Somehow I heard Matthew scream my name over the sound of the air whooshing past me and my blood pounding in my ears and my own screaming.

I close my eyes and brace myself for the smashing into the ground that'll break all my bones and probably kill me.

But it doesn't kill me.

It doesn't break my bones.

It doesn't even _hurt_.

I feel as if I've stopped midair, just before the ground, and was gently laid down. Like the air below me, engulfed me and cushioned my landing; protecting me.

When my eyes open, at first, all I see is a bright light. As my eyes readjust and my heart attempts to calm down, I realize the bright light, is a person. A boy. He's nineteen or so. Green eyes that outshine the dying forest around him. And golden hair, like feathery rays of sunlight.

He's speaking, I finally notice. His voice deep and soothing, saying, "You'll be alright. Everything's okay. You're going to be fine."

I try to speak, to say something, but it comes out as a cough and a gasp for air. My eyes close as the coughing fit gets worse. I curl into myself, the wrong thing to do, as I try and gasp for breath. Matt's voice is all around me, speaking over the golden boy's voice, screaming my name, "Al! Alfred! Oh my god! Are you okay?"

"You're okay." Golden Boy's voice hums.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" Matt keeps repeating. His hands are on me, forcing me to lay on my side and pulling my arms above my head. His voice sounds panicked, scared even. "Can… Can you breathe?"

"Just breathe."

"Look at me, look at me!"

"Open your eyes."

My breathing gets better in a moment. After a deep, shaking breath, I open my eyes and see Matt's terrified face. Golden Boy's gone. My body feels fine, apart from my pounding heart and how cold I feel.

Matt sighs in relief as I sit up slowly. He hugs me as I look up at the tree I just fell from. On one side of the tree, from about halfway up to the ground, all the branches are broken from where I crashed through them. I'm thirteen. I'm not dumb. I know something is wrong. I should've broken something. I should've died. _I shouldn't be here._

"Matt?" I say, as he still clings to me, like if he lets go I'll disappear.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you see… a person? A guy?"

"…Are you alright?" Matt asks, pulling away from me to see my expression. His confusion matches my own.

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"…Yeah. Let's just… go home."

The entire way home and while we sat by the fire drinking our beverages, Matt still asked if I was okay. I told him 'yes' every time. But the thought of the Golden Boy swirled in my mind. I can't help but feel like I just cheated death, or something. I fell from ten, eleven feet up, I hit dozens of branches on the way down; I should've gotten more than just a scratch. Even the scratch isn't that big.

And yet, here I am, drinking hot chocolate and dreaming about golden boys.

I must be lucky.

I must be insane.


	2. Chapter 2

Since I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night (except, maybe, talk to my girlfriend?) I'm going to post another chapter! Yay!

* * *

It's been three years since I fell out of that tree. I haven't seen Golden Boy again. For a while, I forgot the entire thing ever happened. Once or twice or twenty times he haunted my dreams. I would wake up in the middle of the night and swear I saw a white light out my window. I remember throwing the blanket off myself and scrambling across the room to the window to try and get a glimpse of Golden Boy again.

Last night was one of those nights. We're I had a dream -or more like a memory, but not, like a twisted memory- where Golden Boy and I were in the forest, under that tree. He spoke softly, calmly, and I couldn't help but stare. His messy hair was perfect. His eyes practically sparkled, the only green in the autumn trees. It was always autumn in his dreams. They made his eyes brighter.

We sat next to each other on the ground, my hands were busy playing with the grass, to keep me from trying to reach out and touch him.

He said my name.

I looked up at him.

His hand came up to touch my cheek, but before our skin could make contact, he was gone. Fading away into nothing, like a dream.

Because that's all he was.

I'm sure of it.

Obviously.

That's all Golden Boy is; a dream.

* * *

"Al, I have to stay after school for some help in chemistry. So you'll have to walk home alone, okay?" Matt says as I drag my feet on the pavement. Matty and I walk to school and back every day together. I hardly heard him, my thoughts still on my dream about Golden Boy.

He always leaves before we can touch. Always.

Why won't he stay?

_Because he's not real._

_He never was to begin with._

_It's all in your head._

"Al?"

I glance up at Matt's violet eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I can walk by myself, mom."

"I'm just making sure you know what's going on." Matt chuckles at my sour mood. "What's the matter? Nightmare?"

I bite my lip as my gaze drops, "It was him again."

Matt makes a nervous squeak kind of a noise, "Oh? Who, again? Ivan?"

Rolling my eyes, I mutter, "You know who."

It was two months or so after The Tree Thing, when I told Mattie what I saw. He listened until I didn't have anything else to say. Then he laughed and said I was "so creative" with my "stories". Regardless of his response, I still told him whenever I thought about Golden Boy. He always got all quiet.

We didn't say much else the rest of the way to school. Matt tried to start a new conversation as we waited for the cars to pass so we could cross the busy street by the school, but I didn't reply.

My mind was still thinking about green eyes and dying leaves when lunch rolled around. Matt and I somehow got the same lunch period, and we sit together with his friend Francis, and Francis's friend Antonio.

When Matt first led me to their table, I was hesitant, to say the least.

"_Matt" I hissed at him. "How do you know these guys?"_

_He pauses for a second before saying, "They're… my friends."_

"_Friends? No, they're the _Bad Touch Duo_." They're not good dudes. At all. They're perverts and annoying and just… _not good_. The two have been friends since second grade and have always been up to trouble. "I refuse to let my brother hang out with them."_

"_It wasn't really my idea." Matt mutters, sitting down next to Francis._

_Dropping my tray on the table I ungracefully fall into the seat by Antonio. "Oh… my god." I stare at Francis's grinning face, "You're doing it with him aren't you?" I'm not sure who I asked, Francis or Matt. _

_But Antonio happily replied, "Don't forget me!"_

_Matt's face instantly reddened and he practically shoved himself away from Francis, "NO! It's not like that! I mean… S-shut up!"_

"_He looks like a tomate!"_

Without much time or trouble, they became my friends too.

And since I'm a sharing-is-caring kind of guy, I told them about Golden Boy too.

That's what we were talking about today.

"I knew it was because of him." Francis says, smiling.

"What?" I ask as I stab my –I think its roast beef?- with a plastic fork.

Francis smiles from across the table, "Your mood. You always get in a bad mood whenever you dream about him."

I mutter an 'oh' and keep eating. It's true. Although I try to ignore him, ignore it. I can't. My mind wanders. I think of what he is. A figment of my imagination? Probably. That has to be it. Unless, he's like some kind of mystic spirit telling me that I actually hit my head when I fell and I'm in a coma and I'm never going to wake up.

I drop my fork and turn to Matt, "Am I alive?"

His eyes look wide as he says, "Yes? Yes."

That didn't sound convincing enough. I turn to Francis and Antonio, who only look amused, as I say, "Is this real life?"

"Actually, Alfred, we have to tell you something." Antonio said seriously.

"Oui." Francis folded his hands on the table in a professional manner, "You haven't been alive for years. We're just here to keep you company until you finally… let go."

"Oh my god- are you serious- you guys are like ghosts or something- that's freakin wack!" I say it as one sentence, in one breath as my arms flail uselessly. I pause for a second, my mind catching up with the rest of this. I laugh at my foolishness at believing them, "Oh, please guys. I know your joking."

Francis looks at me puzzled, if not amused, "You do?"

"Yeah, obviously! Because my body wouldn't of grown the past three years, duh."

Antonio grinned, "You got us. Your too smart for us, amigo."

Matthew sighs and tries to stares at the space behind Francis's head. "Don't encourage him."

I chuckle some more, taking another bite of my maybe-roast-beef, "'sides, ghosts don't exist." I grin at Matt, "Right?"

Matthew mutters something under his breath that sounded like, 'I gotta go' and stood up to leave. I call after him, "Hey, where you going?"

He turns slightly, while still walking, and says as harshly as he can, "Chemistry!"

I blink for a moment at his quickly retreating form in confusion.

"What's wrong, Al?" One of the guys asks.

Without looking away from my brother I mumble in response, "Mattie has chemistry second period."

* * *

I don't see Matt until the end of the day. The students are quickly filing out of the halls, chatting happily about what they'll do this weekend.

When I turn the corner into an empty hallway, the last thing I expect to see was my brother, leaning with his back against the wall, and _giggling_. I freeze, just stop and stare at him. He's laughing at absolutely nothing. There's no one else in the hall.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

He jumps nearly half a mile. Our eyes meet and he looks away quickly, almost glaring at the space to the left of him.

"Matt, what's up?" I say while strolling up to him.

He frowns at me, "I'm going to get the, uh, chemistry help now?" He talks slowly, like I'm some small child. "The thing I told you about earlier?"

_That's not what I meant._

I meant _'Why are you acting so weird?' _But I roll with it. "Um, the part during lunch?"

"Ye- no. Look, just, I'll be late home. So, um, I'll see you later." Matt's gaze kept shifting down the hall. I follow his gaze; the hall's still empty.

I click my tongue in confusion, looking from Matt to the hall and back, "Have you been…are you…"

_Are you okay?_

_I'm the supposed to be the one acting weird._

_I'm the one with Golden Boy._

"Yeah." Matt's gaze is distant. Like he isn't really with me at the moment. He refocuses on me for a moment and says, "I have to go." He leaves without another word. His movements are stiff and quick.

He's hiding something.

"Okay." I say, watching him go, suspiciously, "Bye, then."

* * *

On the walk home, I get to thinking about Matty.

I'm worried about Matt. I really am. He's totally out of it recently. It's totally not normal. Usually I'm the one that's spacey. He's always so focused and on top of things. And now he's, he's like me. Which isn't right at all.

I snap out of my thoughts as something pulls me back. Like, literally pulls me back. My weight shifts backwards, effectively moving my body back an inch or two. Just as I realize my sudden halt of progression, a car barrels past me. Right in the spot where I was about to step.

My eyes widen, I don't even think to watch the car drive away, to get their license plate. All I can think is,_ 'Well, shit.'_

I turn, to glance at what force could have possibly caused that slight hesitation in my step. That slight pause that ended up being the difference between safety and taking a header into a windshield. When I glance over my shoulder, that's when I see it.

See _him._

"Golden Boy!" I practically shout.

He smiles at me, and holds his pointer finger to his lips. The signal for silence. I shut up, but I can't stop my mouth from hanging open.

A car honks, I look up and realize, I'm standing in the middle of the road. The driver rudely gestures at me. I ignore him and look back to Golden Boy.

He's gone.

He just _vanished_.

_Where did he come from?_

_Where did he go?_

Officially freaked, I run the rest of the way home.

* * *

Tell me whatcha think.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm avoiding doing work by writing. Because YOLO!

Funny someone commented wanting more, just as I started to write the next chapter.

* * *

It's been a week after I saw Golden Boy get hit by the truck. I think that's what happened. I can picture him, there one moment and gone the next. I'm not even sure anymore. Maybe he just ran away when the truck came by and I missed it? I don't know. When Matt got home that day he told me I imagined it.

"But he was there!" I shouted, exasperated and trying to get him to believe me, "I saw him!"

"It's not real! It's all in your head!" Matt shouted back. He gripped my shoulders and shook me a bit with each word of his next sentence. "He does not exist!" I opened my mouth to say something else, but he cut me off, shouting, "Shut up! Just stop talking about him!" He wouldn't even look at me. His eyes were always focused on something behind me, like I wasn't worth his attention. It pissed me off more than anything. We're supposed to be brothers. He's supposed to have my back, even when I don't always have his. He's supposed to trust me and believe me when I start talking about the possible existence of supernatural beings that may or may not be haunting me. Is that too much to ask?

I hid in my room the rest of the day, and we didn't speak much after that little spat. Matt would try to start conversations, but I would ignore him, eventually he stopped trying. We went through our daily routines basically ignoring each other. Even at lunch during school, we wouldn't sit next to each other and we would only say the bare minimum.

Antonio and Francis started to give us worried glances.

I'm sure they talked about us when we left.

Matt wouldn't tell me if he'd be working on chemistry after school or not. He would just either be there silently waiting at the main doors to walk home with me, or I wouldn't see him until it was dark out.

"Who studies chemistry until its seven at night?" I asked him one day when he walked in the door.

"People who are going to get an A on the final." He replied without looking at me.

I roll my eyes, finals don't start for another four weeks. He's such a loser.

Today was one of the days where I walk home alone while Matt studies with his tutor or something. A little part of me wanted to go when the light was green for the cars. A little part of me wanted to step out in front of the traffic. A little part of me just wanted to prove Matt wrong. A little part of me wanted to see Golden Boy again.

But I didn't.

Because if Matt was right, and I was wrong, then I'd be deader than a doornail. Which would really suck.

With Golden Boy around, or not around, or in my head, or whatever. I've become more conscious of the world around me. And I don't mean, I suddenly recognize cars that pass me daily, or I appreciate the smell of the trees, or that I suddenly want to be friends with everyone.

No.

I mean I'm more conscious of the 'what if' moments. Like, I notice things and then my mind automatically thinks, 'What if that was Golden Boy?'

The shadows dancing across a wall in an empty room. The words that you can just barely hear in the distance, but can't make out. The figure that appeared just barely in your eye line and yet, when you glance to look, isn't there. The cold shiver running down your back on a hot day.

Suddenly anything could be because of Golden Boy.

Suddenly I feel like I need to be in a hospital.

Because he can't be real. Right?

Everything I've been 'noticing' is just my mind. Just my imagination. They don't mean anything and neither does he. I'm just being… subconsciously expressive.

Or that's what Matt keeps telling me.

And I'm starting to believe him.

Because why shouldn't I? I'm just going crazy.

I wait up for him every night. Just to make sure he gets home okay. Even if we're fighting –we still haven't said anything to each other since I last told him of Golden Boy- he still is my brother and I wouldn't be able to live without him.

So when it started to get to be around 9:38, I start to panic a little.

He should be home.

Where is he?

Just as I head downstairs to check to see if he maybe came home and I just didn't hear him? The front door opens before I'm even halfway down the stairs.

"I told you to be quiet!" Matt's voice whispers.

Someone's with him? I watch from the stairs as he walks in. But there's no one there. Maybe he's just on the phone or something. Yeah.

"I know, but he might." Matt says, laughter obvious in his tone.

Slowly, I walk the rest of the way down the stairs. Matthew still hasn't noticed me, and he keeps talking to nothing. Chuckling, he says, "Oh, don't be mean. You're not that great yourself." Then he rolls his eyes as he sets down his bag and mutters, "Right, I forgot."

In a matter of seconds, everything happens so fast; I walk up behind him, he turns, our eyes lock, he looks horrified.

"Matt?"

"Al."

"Who're you talking to?"

"…Myself."

"Yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

His eyes dart around the room and he fidgets in his spot. Without really ever looking back at me, he says, "Because, I'm… uh, yeah, yeah, rehearsing. For, um, the play, right." He says, then weakly adds at the end, "For, for church."

"Church." I say. Blinking at him in slight surprise and confusion.

He nods, still fidgeting like a toddler in time-out, awaiting his escape.

"Matt." He glances up at me before looking away. I say the next words slowly, so he can understand why his claim doesn't make sense. "We don't go to church."

He glares hard at his immediate right. "I know." He says, obviously thinking fast, "But I volunteered, for like, community service, and they said I can help in the play. So I was practicing my lines, just now."

I cross my arms, "What's the play about?"

"Cain and Abel." He says immediately.

My mind draws a blank. He knows more bible stuff than I do. I play it off as me still questioning his sanity. "Which is…?"

"They're brothers. One of them kills the other." He says as he starts to walk around me and up the stairs to his room. I let him go, because I'm still trying to connect how whatever he was saying could have been used in a play, and when he would've gone to a church anyway.

It sounded like he was having a conversation. He really _could_ have been talking to himself. It's not really uncommon. Antonio's friend, Lovino, talks to himself all the time. But Matt doesn't like unnecessary noise. If he wanted to talk to himself, he'd do it in his head. Not out loud.

I shake my head and begin to turn off the lights, lock the doors, and get ready for bed. By the time I make my way back upstairs, Matt's light is still on. Its bright glow seeps out from under the closed door. I can hear him still talking to himself. "Rehearsing his lines" or whatever. When I pass his door, it just sounds like a lot of giggling to me.

Maybe Matt's the crazy one.

What if this is all Matt's dream? And I'm a part of it? And I became self-aware? That'd be cool. But I'd rather enjoy waking up now.

But not right now. Right now, I just want to curl up and sleep and hopefully forget about Golden Boy and Matt's weirdness.

* * *

I've been writing this all day and I've changed it twice and I still don't know how I feel about it.

Tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this one is really short. But I think I make up for it a bit.

Anyway, tell me what you think.

* * *

Our eyes haven't left each other's since I walked in the room. And I saw him instantly. He's not even trying to hide, like he doesn't even care if he's seen. He's just sitting on our counter, while Matt makes pancakes on the stove next to him.

Matt hasn't said a single thing about him, like he can't see him. Like he's not there. But he has to be. Otherwise, I've just been staring at nothing for the past twenty minutes. I would be ecstatic, this is the longest something like this has happened. But there's just one problem.

He's not Golden Boy.

I glance away from the stranger sitting on the counter for a second to take the plate of pancakes Matt was handing me. When I look back, I expect to see nothing, I expect him to disappear; like Golden Boy does. But he didn't. He's still there. He's still staring at me.

Devil red eyes lock with mine. I feel a cold shiver run down my spine.

The stranger with red eyes quirks a silver eyebrow up. I force myself to not look away. The shiver didn't disappear. My skin felt like it was crawling all over.

"Al… Al… Al!" Matt's voice snaps me out of my trance. I blink up at him, his eyes are wide with worry and he hasn't touched his pancakes. "What's wrong with you?"

"I..." My eyes dart to the man on the counter, he's grinning from ear to ear. _Oh my god. _I realize. _He's laughing at me. _

"What?" Matt prompts, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm just…" My gaze lands on the guy with red eyes again. "I'm just not hungry." I finish lamely, tearing my eyes away from Red Eyes.

Matt shakes his head, muttering, "Now I _know_ something's wrong."

Red Eyes snickers. His laugh sounds like snakes chanting curses. God, everything about this guy is creepy. He's like the exact opposite of Golden Boy. I don't like that he's here at all.

"I'm fine." I say, my eyes not leaving Red Eyes'.

Matt picks up his fork and finally takes a bite of one of his pancakes. "Yeah, I wish I could believe that."

"What do you mean?" My eyes flicker from Matt's distraught face to Red Eyes' shit-eating grin. Grudgingly, I shove some pancakes in my mouth.

"We're going to die."

I choke on my pancakes, coughing drastically. I ungracefully spit my half-chewed pancakes into a napkin and suck in breath. Sputtering, I say, "W-what?! Why?!"

"Because you can see him." Matt says solemnly.

We both look up at Red Eyes, who suddenly is right next to Matt. He's still grinning.

He purrs darkly, showing his canines. He snaps his fingers and everything goes dark.


	5. Chapter 5

In honor of me getting an A on a chemistry test!

Studying, it actually works. Who knew?

* * *

My eyes jolt open and my body jumps forward, my arms reach out as if trying to grab the images that were fading form my mind. My heart is pounding and I'm sweating. My mind echoes those last words form Matt over and over again.

"Because you can see him."

"Because you can see him."

"_You can see him."_

My legs are taking me through the house before I really know what happened. I push my way into the kitchen and am faced with a familiar sight.

Matt was by the stove, making pancakes. My eyes instantly dart to the counter top next to him. I let out a breath as I see nothing.

"What the fuck?"

He jumps a mile, and turns to me, "Oh, good morning, Al."

"I'm going insane."

"How so?" He hums distantly as he slides a plate of pancakes my way.

I prod the breakfast with my fork, laying my head on my arm. "I had a dream last night."

"About Golden Boy?" Matt asks almost nervously, his eyes glance at something behind me as he turns to get the syrup from the counter. His movements are robotic, like he's not aware of what he's doing. Life seems to come back to him as he sits down across from me. He wrings his hands, and seems to notice he's doing it, so he puts his hands in his lap and watches me poke the pancakes.

Only then do I realize, I'm not hungry. At all. I glance at the time, its 10, which is pretty late, even if it is a Saturday. But I'm usually an early riser. I always get up, at the latest, at 8.

I straighten up a bit, stuffing a piece of pancake in my mouth, it'd be a waste of food not to. "That's the thing." I say around the fluffy breakfast food. "I would've been totally okay with it if it was Golden Boy. That would've been normal."

Matt pulls a face. I can just hear his disapproving thoughts. "You _dream_ of him?"

"Not like that. Well, sometimes. But anyway, last night, it was about you." I shake my head, trying to reword it. "Not just you, though. There was another guy too."

"I don't need to hear about your incestual fantasies at the breakfast table." Matt says, about to stand up. He's trying to escape. _'He knows something.' _I think suspiciously.

"He had red eyes." I say quickly. Matt freezes in his spot. My eyes stay on his face as I continue, "And silver hair. And a snake's laugh." I want to say more, but Matthew already looks horrified. He's staring at the blank wall across from him. His eyes are clouded and he's obviously not _here_.

"That's… um…" He says after a moment.

I frown slightly. This is the first time he hasn't laughed and said I'm being creative or imaginative or whatever. This time he actually looks a bit spooked. He looks serious.

"I think he's the devil." I said once he didn't finish his sentence.

Matt laughed. He actually laughed. But it's the disbelieving kind of laugh that sounds a bit forced and painful. "Yeah, awesome. Perfect. Totally."

"And you saw him too."

"And you saw him too." Matt repeats standing up completely and walking briskly out of the room.

I jump up quickly, following him, "And," I say as I catch up to him in the living room, "I don't think it's the first time."

"Interesting. Do tell." He says sarcastically, he glances around the room, making a beeline for the stairs. I race after him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to me.

"I think he's been here a lot." I say, he's not able to keep eye contact with me.

When our eyes do meet, he says harshly, "Of course he has. He's in your head, where else would he go?" Matt yanks his arm out of my grip and rushes up the stairs.

I follow after him, shouting, "I think he's real! Golden Boy, too!" We're up the stairs and almost at Matt's room.

"Let it go, Al."

"I ain't Elsa. Listen, I think he's related to Golden Boy somehow." I say, rushing so I can stand in front of him. He stops before me, his eyes firey with expression, different emotions flicker hauntingly in his gaze. "I think…" Matt's eyes glance behind me again, "I think you're looking at him right now."

Matt doesn't say anything. His eyes must be attracted to mine by some mysterious force, since he can't seem to break eye contact with me now.

And when I glance over my shoulder, at where Matt's gaze was a moment ago, I do see Red Eyes. But he wasn't my focus anymore. My blue eyes lock with forest green ones. My entire train of thought crashes into the station, killing every idea that was riding on it.

"Gold-?" I say in shock, turning the entire way.

He lifts his hands and snaps.

For a moment, time seems to stand still; I hear Matt starting to say the first syllables of my name, I'm still turning to face Golden Boy, who seems to be the only thing moving quickly. He turns to Red Eyes, they're hissing harshly to each other, their language not anything human. Red Eyes laughs his devilish laugh. Golden Boy goes to jump on him, but the albino snaps and disappears. After a huff, Golden Boy turns back to me. Everything is still slow in my mind. The spat between the two felt like it was only seconds long.

"Right, then." Golden Boy said, pointing at me, "Do stop associating with Banshees. It's a nasty business. I can't guarantee next time he'll just knock you out."

I can't move fast enough to grab him. I can't think fast enough to tell him to stay, to ask him questions, to see if it's all real. He's gone before I've finished blinking.

Time moves regularly once Golden Boy disappears.

"Al."

"You knew." I hiss at last, whipping around to Matt quickly. He's rubbing his temples, his shoulders are tense.

"Al-"

"This entire time you've been making me feel like I'm crazy, but you knew! Golden Boy has been with you too!" I'm practically shouting now.

"Not Golden Boy. Gilbert."

"Golden Boy's name is Gilbert?"

"Gilbert's name is Gilbert. Golden Boy doesn't talk to me." Matt says, turning to walk away.

I grab Matt's arm for the second time this morning, "Red Eyes is Gilbert? Jesus fuck, Matthew! Golden Boy says he's a Banshee!"

"Which is?" Matt rolls his eyes.

"I…" I try to find the words, but nothing comes to mind. "I don't know, but it doesn't sound good."

"Well, I know what he is. A good guy. I've been talking with Gil for a long time. He just said that if you could ever see him, then everything is over. Lucky for you, your shadow of a boyfriend jumped in to save us." Matt leaves for good this time, down the stairs and out the door. And I let him.

Because suddenly, I'm not insane.

Suddenly, my brother is talking to the devil.

Suddenly, there's no doubt Golden Boy is my imagination.

* * *

Sorry if this is shit. I think its shit. Idk. I just need to get where I want in the story.

Anyway, please review.


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